


Don't You?

by sceal_an_mhadaidh



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, King Renly Baratheon, Multi, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Queen Margaery Tyrell, Sansa is in training to be Renly and Margaery's sex slave, Sex Slave, Spanking, Teaching, Threesome - F/F/M, body food, licking honey off of skin, nipple sucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceal_an_mhadaidh/pseuds/sceal_an_mhadaidh
Summary: Margaery comes up with an idea that will both stop the rumors about Renly's preferences, and make both her and Renly happier in the bedroom: Sansa Stark, hostage of the crown, pretty and willing and eager to do anything to please Margaery.First, she's got to get Sansa ready to be shared by the King and Queen.
Relationships: Renly Baratheon/Margaery Tyrell, Renly Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 3
Kudos: 125





	1. The First Night (Sansa/Margaery)

**Author's Note:**

> Sansa is aged up here.

Sansa is asleep when Margaery enters her bedroom, fallen into a deep sleep from the dreamwine that Margaery ordered for her. Her maids curtsey for their Queen, and flutter away from the bedroom at Margaery's orders. 

They are going to need privacy tonight. 

The bedroom is cool, and smells sweet. It is about to smell sweeter, and at the thought, Margaery's cunt clenches in anticipation. 

She's had her eye on Sansa for years, but until Renly won the crown, Margaery did not dare make any move that might stir rumors. In Highgarden she was able to do as she pleased, and take nearly anyone to bed without so much as an eyelash batted, but King's Landing is a different place, and a woman cannot do as she likes - especially not a woman who wishes to be the queen. But now, at last, Sansa is all hers. 

Margaery sets her jar of honey on the little table beside Sansa's bed, and stands before her prize. 

Waiting has been agony, because it is as though the gods designed Sansa to tempt Margaery: long, slender limbs kissed with freckles, an elegant neck begging to be grabbed, thick waist-length auburn hair that is always in some complicated, prissy style that Margaery longs to muss, pouty rosebud lips and large, innocent blue eyes... and the softest, most tempting swell beneath her neckline. Sansa has been neglected in recent years, and her body has outgrown her old gowns by about two years: the bust strains, mashing her breasts, so that with every breath there is a flutter of soft sweet skin at her neckline. 

She is lovely, but, best of all, she is sweet, pliant, eager, desperate. Margaery knows that Sansa will do anything to please her. 

Anything, she is certain of it. 

Now Sansa is curled on her side, hair undone and splayed across her pillows, her wispy underthings clinging to her body, twisted around her hips and thighs. Margaery reaches forward and gently rolls Sansa onto her back, and Sansa lets out a soft sigh before settling back again, hands beside her head as though in surrender. The dreamwine will only keep her asleep for so long, and when she wakes, she will have a few minutes' confusion, like waking from the deepest sleep. That few minutes is all that Margaery needs, at least for tonight. She is certain she will not need the dreamwine again. After tonight, Sansa will be ready and willing whenever she wants. 

She gingerly crawls onto the bed and curls up against Sansa. Her skin smells sweet, and is warm from being underneath the coverlet. When Margaery brushes away her thick copper waves, she reveals the lovely breasts she has longed, for years, to see unbridled: full and pert, they sit high. Through the pale, sheer silk, she can see impossibly puffy nipples of the palest pink. When she traces her fingertips across her breast in the slightest whisper of touch, she watches those perfect peaks stiffen, tenting the fabric. _Sensitive, then,_ she observes. She knew it. 

When she tugs down the neckline and secures it beneath Sansa's breasts, she sees the nipples are the same perfect pink as her lips, just like she imagined. Sansa stirs at the touch and shifts in her sleep, but she doesn't wake just yet. When she lets out a sigh, Margaery watches those perfect breasts rise and fall. Soon they will belong to her, but for now, she must go slowly. 

She molds her body against Sansa's. She too is clad only in the wispiest of nightdresses, and she knows Sansa will feel the heat of her skin quickly. She slings an arm around Sansa's waist, and grazes her lips along Sansa's cheek, then runs a finger across Sansa's lips. Sansa sighs again, and tilts her head, exposing her elegant neck. One day soon, Margaery will adorn that lovely neck with a golden collar engraved with roses, but for now she traces its lines, and giggles when Sansa shivers, obviously ticklish. That will be fun, too. 

She runs her hands up and down Sansa's slim curves, tracing her hipbones and delighting when Sansa shifts them slightly, frowning in her sleep. She is going to wake, soon, so Margaery tugs the wisps back up over Sansa's breasts, just barely, letting the fabric rub against the nipples teasingly. She buries her face in the crook of Sansa's neck, and then at last hears, "Your Grace?" 

It's soft and high, girlish and sweet, just like everything else about Sansa. 

"Sansa, I missed you, sweetling," Margaery whispers, shifting her body against Sansa's. "I can't bear it." 

"Can't bear what?" Her voice is still thick and slow with sleep, so Margaery kisses her neck and feels Sansa's skin all turn to gooseflesh. 

"We're giving another lady the honor of Bedchamber Maiden, but I wanted it to be you," she whispers the lie. It is not even a real position, but Sansa is so eager to please that she will not question her. 

"Bedchamber Maiden?"

"It's the highest honor, to share a bed with the King and Queen, an old tradition," Margaery whispers, stroking Sansa's cheek. "A secret honor, of course, but the most special one. But oh, Renly decided, when I told him that another lady showed more eagerness... I was so heartbroken that you rejected me." 

"Rejected?" Sansa breathes, but she is still half in dreamland, and Margaery has to cup her cheek to help her focus. "But I never..." 

"Oh, no, this is terrible!" Margaery whispers in horror, sitting up and letting her breasts brush Sansa's on the way. She leans over Sansa, and watches Sansa struggle to understand. "I must have misread you... But it's too late now, unless..."

Even half-asleep, Sansa is still so sweet and hopeful, so easily manipulated. 

"Unless?"

"Unless you prove to me you want it," Margaery says, stroking Sansa's hair. Sansa's eyes are large and trusting as she nods. "It would be the highest honor I could bestow upon you, Sansa. You would be taken care of, forever, and never forced to marry against your wishes. You would be safe and beloved."

Sansa's eyes grow wet. Margaery knows this is what she has craved for years: safety and love, and Margaery's approval. She nods again. 

"What must I do?" 

It is almost too easy. 

"Well, let's see," Margaery begins, pretending to be confused, "lie back and put your hands beside your head. Yes, like that. We'll need them out of the way." 

Sansa does as told at once, holding her hands up in surrender once more, and Margaery tries not to delight in the fact that she had surrendered before, even in her sleep. 

"Do you trust me, Sansa?"

"Yes, your Grace, of course!" 

"And will you tell me if I go too far? If you are unwilling or unable to take up this responsibility?" 

Her eyes fill with tears. 

"Oh, I'll do anything," she promises. "I would never be unwilling." 

"Good girl," Margaery whispers, and she strokes Sansa's cheek. 

Now, it's time for the first lesson. Margaery sits up and straddles Sansa's gently flared hips, and watches Sansa's eyes widen as she bites her pretty lip. "Don't move your hands, sweetling. The other girls didn't." 

Sansa swallows as Margaery tugs down her wisp again, revealing those perfect breasts, and secures the neckline beneath them. It pushes them up even higher, and she watches the peaks stiffen again at the cold air as Sansa draws in a sharp breath. 

"Your Grace..." 

"Are you not willing to go on, Sansa? I suppose I'll--"

"--I'm willing, I'm willing," Sansa whispers hastily. "I am merely - confused." 

"Don't be confused, Sansa. A Bedchamber Maiden does whatever her King and Queen tell her, no matter what. You must prove you will always obey me." 

"Of course I will," Sansa promises. 

But this agreement is not enough for Margaery. She needs Sansa to want it - and she knows just how she'll do it. 

She takes the soft breasts in her hands and delights in the little gasp Sansa draws in. They are full and heavy, and the areolas are puffy and peony-pink and swollen, the nipples one darker shade of pink and perfectly pointed. When Margaery runs her thumbs over the peaks, Sansa twitches, but says nothing, so Margaery traces the areolas with her thumbs before flicking the nipples again. She feels Sansa's hips shift slightly beneath hers and wonders if she is wet already. She always suspected Sansa would have deliciously sensitive breasts, and she is thrilled to be proven right. With even the slightest whisper of touch, Sansa's nipples harden, and her breasts rise and fall more rapidly. Margaery experiments, and slowly flicks her thumbs over the nipples, back and forth, back and forth, and feels Sansa flex her leg slightly. 

She knows Renly will only use Sansa's arse, but she hopes she can get Renly to paint these breasts with his come. He always comes a lot, in thick ropes, and Margaery pictures the sticky white stuff dripping down Sansa's nipple and feels her cunt clench again. 

Without warning, she pinches the nipples hard, and Sansa lets out a cry. 

"Oh no, but you've got to be quiet," Margaery scolds. "The other girls were much more quiet than this. You're disappointing me, Sansa." 

Sansa mutely nods, looking crestfallen, and bites her lip. "Let's try that again." She circles the areolas again, every so often moving her hands as though preparing to pinch again, and each time, Sansa stiffens slightly in anticipation - until finally, the second she has lulled her into a false sense of security, she pinches again and Sansa cries out. 

"I'm sorry, your grace," she whimpers. 

"You need some help, don't you?" Margaery sympathizes, and Sansa nods tearfully. "Alright, since it's your first test and you had no time to prepare, I'll let you go just this once. I have an idea." 

She slides off Sansa's hips and kneels between her legs, and parts them. The wisp that ties at her hips and covers her cunt greets her, and Sansa's face flames as Margaery pushes her legs further apart and pushes up the hem of her wisp. 

Of course the wisp is pretty and girlish and also too small: the ribbons tying it at Sansa's hips are too tight and dig into the soft, freckled flesh. But even better than that, the silk is drenched between her legs, just like Margaery suspected, and when she teasingly unties the wisp, Sansa bites her lip and looks away in shame. 

"I'm s-sorry, your Grace," she stammers in a whisper. "I do not know why-"

"--No, this is good, sweetling," Margaery reassures her, peeling the damp cloth away from her cunt. Oh, but her cunt is as prettily pink as her nipples and lips, of course. Margaery holds up the soaked silk. "This may help you yet. These are soaked. You must want to serve me." 

"Yes," Sansa chokes out, as Margaery crawls back on top of her and sits on her hips again. Margaery scrunches up the fabric. 

"Open your mouth, sweetling." 

Of course Sansa does as told at once, obediently opening her pretty rosebud lips and taking the bunched, soaked fabric. She wrinkles her nose at her own taste, but she doesn't protest or fight when Margaery presses the fabric in through her lips. "Good girl," she whispers, stroking the side of one breast and watching the nipple pucker even more - and then without warning, she pinches both nipples, and Sansa's ensuing cry is muffled by the soaked silk. "Very good girl," Margaery encourages. 

She rubs the pads of her thumbs over the nipples, and then along the areolas again. Her own breasts feel swollen and tingly with need, and her own cunt is soaked, too, but tonight is about ensuring Sansa's consent - whether Sansa realizes that or not. 

Margaery lightly cups and then slaps Sansa's breasts, watching them jiggle with the movement. When Sansa is kneeling on the bed, her arse fucked by Renly and her face positioned over Margaery's cunt, those tits will bounce and jiggle so perfectly. No awkward swinging or swaying - just a tight, perfect bounce. She reaches for the honey she left on the table, and holds it high over Sansa's breasts. 

The golden liquid spills out in a long stream and pools on one perfect peak, and Sansa shudders and whimpers. Margaery smears the honey over the nipple, and then bends down low, closes her eyes, and captures the peak between her lips. 

Oh, but she cannot tell if Sansa's skin or the honey is sweeter. She feels the ridges of the nipple between her lips, and she swipes her tongue against it, feeling Sansa shudder and buck against her. Her left hand cups the other breast and idly pinches and toys with that peak as Margaery sucks the nipple between her lips, letting her teeth graze it every now and then. She pretends she is sucking the honey from Sansa's breast, and moans at the taste as she hears Sansa's choked, muffled moan. Her hand grazes the back of Margaery's head but she quickly pulls back - such a good little submissive. Still, Margaery cannot wait to see her in delicate gold chains, or restrained by dark, shining leather, legs splayed and wrists over her head. When Margaery is done with her, Sansa will wait in their bedchamber every single night, tied up and slick and ready and waiting for Renly to take her arse. 

(And if she's very good, Margaery will even let her sit on her face and pleasure her, because she is eager to learn what Sansa's cunt tastes like, but that is for another night.) 

She moves to the other breast, watching the honey pool there and sucking the nipple into her mouth with a wet, sloppy sound that makes Sansa's hips jolt. Margaery pulls away, letting strands of honey drip from her lips back onto Sansa's skin, and grazes her lips over the stiff, slippery peak - then nips with her teeth, making Sansa's back arch. 

"Now, for the last part, you have an assignment, Sansa," Margaery says, pulling back and watching Sansa's face. Tears run down her temples but she is looking at Margaery eagerly, and Margaery takes the other item off the table. 

It is a series of little golden balls on a chain. Margaery reaches forward and slips the silk out of Sansa's mouth. "Take these in your mouth first, sweetling." 

Sansa obeys, letting the golden balls fill her mouth. "Now suck. Get them as wet as you can." She watches Sansa let saliva pool in her mouth, her little pink tongue flicking over the balls. If Renly can bear to see her face, he will be delighted - she seems like a natural talent. When Margaery pulls the golden balls out of her mouth, they drip saliva between Sansa's breasts. "Good girl. Very good girl." 

Sansa looks pleased. Margaery smiles as she sits back and spreads Sansa's legs, slapping her thigh when Sansa resists slightly. "Now get on all fours." 

Sansa is humiliated, and lets out a little whimper as she rolls over and gets on her hands and knees. Margaery presses on her back until she bears down on her elbows. Now she is presenting her arse and cunt to Margaery, and it is a beautiful sight: the lips are puffy and pink, the copper curly hair soaked with need, the rosebud of muscle fluttering as Sansa's cunt clenches. Need drips down one slender thigh, and Margaery cannot help but lightly swat one perfect cheek, and Sansa lets out a gasp of surprise. 

Margaery leans forward and spits, experimentally, onto the cleft, watching Sansa quiver as saliva runs down toward the ring of muscle. That is for another night, however. Margaery brushes her knuckles along Sansa's cunt, and the girl shivers and bucks. "You're going to take these - all of them. And you're going to keep them inside you for as many hours at a time as you can. When I come tomorrow night, I expect to find them inside you." 

Margaery debates for a moment, and touches a fingertip to the tight ring of muscle that will belong to Renly. "One of the other girls took them here, but you're not ready for that just yet," she says softly, and then she slips her finger, to the knuckle, into Sansa's tight cunt as Sansa whimpers and buries her face in the pillows. The moment only makes her back arch further, revealing her cunt even more obscenely to Margaery, and Margaery slips a second finger in and pumps. Sansa is impossibly tight, but she is so soaking wet and so pulsing with need that she takes both fingers, her insides fluttering around them desperately. Her hips shift and Margaery can see she is adjusting to the intrusion, getting ready to take more, but she withdraws her fingers before Sansa can, and pushes the first dripping golden ball inside - then the next - then the next - then the next - until only the slim gold loop dangles from those puffy, swollen lips. 

And to demonstrate just what those golden balls do, Margaery spanks Sansa, hard as she can, and Sansa cries out - then gasps, then lets out a low, whimpering moan as she rocks her hips. Margaery teasingly tugs on the loop, pulling the first ball half out before pushing it in again. "Tomorrow we will see if you passed your first test. I do hope you pass, Sansa, I want only you to serve me." 

"I want to serve you, your Grace," Sansa whimpers, voice muffled by the pillow. Her thighs are trembling, and a red mark is forming on one cheek. Margaery pulls down the wispy silk, and guides Sansa back down onto her back. Sansa's cheeks are wet with tears and flushed with shame and desire as Margaery strokes her hair. She pulls the neckline of the wisp up again, and watches the fabric catch on Sansa's sticky, damp nipples, making the fabric translucent. 

She knows just what she'll bring tomorrow night. 

Margaery kisses each nipple through the fabric, then kisses Sansa's nose. 

"Tomorrow night, sweetling." 


	2. The Second Night (Sansa/Margaery)

Margaery is eager all day to return to Sansa's bedchamber - and based on the insistent flush she sees on her pet's cheeks and the tops of her breasts all day in court, she is certain that Sansa is just as eager. She can see the girl shifting uncomfortably, her breath hitching mid-laugh, and Margaery things of that dangling golden ring between her sodden folds. Sansa sends her a few pleading, confused looks on the few rare occasions when their eyes do meet, and Margaery ignores her, keeping her face a mask. 

When she approaches Sansa's bedchamber at last, she brings more gifts - but she wonders if Sansa will have found a way to do what she implied she should do with those golden balls last night. She doubts it, because Sansa's arse is virgin and she probably has never even thought of inserting anything there. And part of Margaery hopes she hasn't tried to fit the golden balls there, because she wants to be the one to first take Sansa's arse herself, but part of her is wet and needy at the thought of Sansa struggling, alone, in her room, the curtains drawn round her bed, biting into her pillows as she kneels and reaches behind, struggling to fit the balls past that tight ring of muscle. 

"Sansa?" Margaery calls after locking the bedchamber door. And when she sees a silhouette on the bed, her cunt clenches and she almost drops the box. 

Sansa is naked, on her knees and elbows, with silk stuffed between her rosy lips. Her hair is still done in its prim style - Sansa wants to always be pretty - but she is naked otherwise. Margaery circles the bed slowly, marveling at the sight: full, perfect breasts tipped with hardened nipples, glistening cunt, the golden chain and loop dangling from it tauntingly. Pale arse cheeks high in the air, presenting her arse and cunt to Margaery. 

"Your Grace," Sansa whispers, briefly taking the silk out of her mouth, "I tried to put them--"

"--Shh, sweetling, you have done so well," Margaery coos, setting the box on the floor for now and crawling onto the bed. "Show me how you took them out and put them in again." 

"Yes, Your Grace." 

Sansa puts the silk back in her mouth and reaches between her legs, and the shifted balance means more weight is put on her other arm; it also spreads her cunt and arse wider, as her delicate fingers reach between her legs and tug, gently, on the golden loop. She moans around the silk stuffed in her mouth - Margaery has brought something far better to stuff in her mouth tonight and she cannot wait to give it to her pet - as the golden balls emerge, one by one, sopping wet and leaving sticky trails down her thighs. Her arse cheeks clench and quiver as the last one, the largest one, comes out with a sticky, obscene plop that makes Sansa keen around the silk in her mouth. 

"Very good. Now put them back in." 

Sansa does as told, pressing each ball in and shuddering around it, until once again it's just that golden loop swinging between her legs. "So beautiful," Margaery whispers, tracing her hand over the curve of Sansa's hip. "You passed your first test, sweetling, but there are still many more to go, and you'll have to work very hard at them." 

Sansa nods mutely, fiercely. "Now, lie on your back, arms up with your hands above your head and your legs spread. It's time for your next lesson." 

Margaery watches as Sansa obediently flips to lie on her back. Her face is flushed, as are her tits, and Margaery gives them a friendly little slap, making them jiggle, before crawling off the bed and opening her box. 

First is the plug: it's the smallest one, golden with a lovely rose on the end that will protrude from Sansa's perfect arse. Next Margaery withdraws two objects that look like small glass vials with balls on the end made of a stretchy but firm material. And then she draws golden cuffs with a long golden chain. Lastly she draws a long, curved, ridged replica of a cock, golden as well. She watches Sansa's eyes widen as she sets each of these items on the bed between Sansa's legs. "Now, I have a new way to help you with your little noise problem," Margaery begins, and she picks up the cuffs and the anal plug first. She circles the bed and takes Sansa's hands and cuffs her wrists, with the chain looped on the bedframe behind her. The cuffs force her to stretch a little, and her back arches appealingly, putting those perfect breasts on display. They are flushed now, the puffy areolas swollen, the nipples hard - almost like they sense the abuse Margaery is about to inflict upon them. 

She slips the wispy silk out of Sansa's mouth and lets a little drool trail over one nipple. "Take this in your mouth, and suck on it whenever you want to make noise," she orders, and she slips the plug into Sansa's mouth. Sansa sucks on it obediently, the rose bobbing up and down, her rosy lips fitting perfectly where her ring of muscle will soon fit. Margaery watches her throat move as she adjusts to the size of the plug - it is just a little bigger than is comfortable in one's mouth, but this will be good training in case Renly wants her to suck his cock. "Good girl," Margaery whispers, tracing a finger over Sansa's cheek. Sansa's large blue eyes meet hers, seeking more approval, and she spreads her legs. " _Very_ good girl," Margaery encourages, and she leans down and runs her lips over the nipple that is slick from the silk that was in Sansa's mouth, grazing the skin teasingly and feeling the nipple harden more against her lips. 

Next, Margaery takes the glass objects, and crawls onto the bed between Sansa's slender legs. She squeezes the flexible ends, and hovers each one over Sansa's puffy nipples. "This will hurt, sweetling, but the other girls loved it. They couldn't get enough of it. You may be too sensitive." 

She affixes the glass ends over Sansa's nipples and watches them fit, and then releases the ends: the nipples are pulled upward and, to Margaery's utter lack of surprise, Sansa begins fiercely sucking on the anal plug, barely suppressing a cry. The nipple clamps sit awkwardly on Sansa's heavy round breasts, and Margaery teasingly moves their weight around and watches Sansa's hips shift. 

And now for the last part of round one: Margaery picks up the golden cock and watches Sansa's eyes widen. "Don't worry, sweet girl, you're still a virgin as long as it's not a man's cock," she reassures her, and almost smirks as Sansa visibly relaxes. She runs the molded head up and down between Sansa's slick lips, and watches Sansa's back arch abruptly when she brushes her clit, the nipple clamps swaying dangerously. She must be dying to come, after having those balls inside of her all day, but it's not her turn yet. There is a very specific moment when she will be allowed to come, and this isn't it. 

One by one she tugs the balls out of Sansa's cunt and drops them on the bed. They glisten in the low light and soak the fabric around them, as Margaery teases the head of the cock at Sansa's opening. She lifts up her slender legs to rest on either shoulder, and slowly teases more and more. Sansa's hips shift eagerly like she is trying to draw the cock in, her eyes closed, wet tears streaking down her cheeks and temples, into her hair, legs tensing as she tries to pull Margaery closer. "What a greedy little slut you are," she whispers, and Sansa whimpers around the plug in shame just as Margaery slides the cock in at last. 

Sansa cries around the anal plug, and is cut off by an abrupt choking as it slides back too far. She gags on the plug, saliva streaking from her mouth, as she tries to stifle a cough. The chain of the cuffs strains as she writhes, then all settles. 

It takes a few minutes of vulgar squelching and whimpering around the anal plug for Sansa to take more than an inch or two of the cock, but eventually she takes all of it, and her eyelids lower as her hips shift into a rhythm with Margaery's hand pushing and pulling the cock in and out, her breasts bouncing obscenely. She will be such a good little anal slut for Renly; she will let him fuck her as long as he likes, making little gasps and cries, never resisting and never wanting him to stop. 

But that's not enough. Margaery could get any kitchen girl to be fucked in the arse by Renly; Sansa is a prize, a pet, and Margaery wants more from her special pet. She withdraws the cock and Sansa whimpers, so Margaery slaps her thigh. "That was very good, my little slut, but you still haven't passed tonight's test yet." 

She sets the cock aside, and helps Sansa to turn over so she is on her knees and elbows again. The chain rattles against the bedframe and the nipple clamps, held on only by suction, pop off as Sansa kneels, and she cries out, no longer having the anal plug to suck on. 

No matter; she can have something else to suck on. Margaery sets the cock on the bed, still slick with Sansa's juices. "When you feel the urge to cry out, suck on that - and no teeth. You'll hurt your pretty teeth if you do bite down." 

Sansa obediently takes the slick golden cock between her lips, its end balanced on the bed, and holds it in place. Margaery pushes her down at the small of her back, until her arse is raised highest in the air, exposing the tight ring of muscle and her sopping wet cunt. 

She retrieves the oil from her box and drizzles it in that perfect cleft, watches some slip into the ring of muscle, watches the rest of it dribble down her thighs. Sansa whimpers around the large cock, but doesn't protest. "This is very important, Sansa, to get right. If you fail this test, I may never be able to speak to you again for the shame of it. You must take this in your arse, without noise and without complaint. You must not resist. You must take all of it, and you must hold it inside of you." 

She adds a little more of the oil, and then kneels behind Sansa, resting an arm on her raised arse, and picking up the plug that was in her mouth moments ago. Its end is pointed, and Margaery runs the pointed end around the rim of the muscle and watches Sansa shiver - but she makes no noise, as ordered. 

She teases, she presses. First a tiny bit disappears into her arse, then Margaery pulls out, then a little more. But Sansa is resistant, and Margaery wants her to crave being fucked in her arse, so she begins the next part of her plan: with her free hand she reaches between Sansa's legs, and begins stroking around her clit. Sansa's head begins to bob on the cock as she tries to stifle a moan. She has been aching for orgasm since last night, and now, so long as she willingly takes that plug into her tight arse, she will finally get one. Margaery sets a rhythm: with every brush of the clit, the plug goes in a little more, and then - 

\- and then suddenly Sansa is angling her hips back to take more of it, barely stifling her moans around the golden cock, canting her hips to meet Margaery's ministrations. Maybe they will even graduate to the bigger plug tonight, she thinks as nearly all of the plug is swallowed by Sansa's arse - and then suddenly it is inside her arse, firmly lodged in place, and it's a beautiful sight. Cheeks quivering as Sansa tries to adjust to the new weight and girth inside her virgin arse; cunt dripping down her thighs; the wet smacking, slurping sound as she viciously sucks on the cock but ends up moaning around it anyway. Margaery pictures her nipples grazing the rough coverlet with every shift of her hips, pictures them growing raw. After this she'll suck on them until they ache. 

And now at last it is Sansa's turn. Margaery gets down low, spreads her arse cheeks with her hands, and slides her tongue from clit to arse and back again, pressing her face in deep until her nose is in Sansa's cunt and it's just her tongue lapping at her clit. Sansa shakes and bucks and whimpers; every time she lets out a moan which means she's let the cock out of her mouth, Margaery spanks her, and the good little slut puts the cock back in again, slurping and whining greedily, hungrily, desperately - until she lets out a high keening and then chokes again on the cock, and her shaking evens out. 

Margaery's face is soaked and she is breathless; Sansa's thighs are slick, but the golden rose plug gleams in the light between her two perfect arse cheeks, and Margaery gives it a little twist. 

"You passed your second test, and you're a very good little slut, Sansa," she whispers. "Now it's time for your third test." 


End file.
